Unforgivably Lovely
by Akatsuki Child
Summary: What is the true definition of beauty? Percabeth.


**Just a little one-shot I whipped up. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO!**

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**Unforgivably Lovely**

Percy didn't consider himself to be an "old soul" by any means. He wouldn't be able to take a stroll through Camp while musing about the way the tree Nymphs playfully galloped just out of reach of the satyrs, or how the snickers of Hermes' children resonated with mischief and foreboding. He didn't write poems about the complications of love or the simple things taken for granted in life like some of the poetic Apollo children. And he _certainly_ couldn't find the thrill in donning a new Gucci outfit, as was explained to him by some Aphrodite kids once a while ago.

No, Percy was your Average Joe. He was just like every other poor shmuck: he found eating to be a necessity that needed to be met as soon as the desire arose, and he decided he'd rather sit on the beach lazily than tend to some gardens (as was the MO of the Demeter kids).

Curiously, though, he was very much _unlike_ every other shmuck. Unlike the Stoll brothers, Percy did not find every girl with a size two body, blonde hair, and an obnoxious, clingy personality to be (in the words of the Stolls) "fucking sexy."

Percy wasn't a ladies' man (which was a rarity considering his devilishly good looks made every woman faint). He'd rather spend three hours with an intelligent, self-respected girl than to spend one hour with three giggly, insufferable ones that were "fucking sexy."

This reasoning unknowingly sparked an irritation within many of the female campers who fantasized about being Percy Jackson's girlfriend (in other words, they envied Annabeth). After their many failed attempts to snag his attention away from the daughter of Athena, they came to realize that he really _wasn't _that kind of guy, and that he was actually _loyal_.

Gods forbid.

However, it was logical to assume that this reasoning was also why Percy found himself attracted to Annabeth, and not just physically. Granted she was blonde, but it was a sophisticated kind of blonde, the kind that made any man realize that she meant business, and she wasn't going to take anyone's crap or attempts at seduction (_especially_ from the Stoll brothers). Her eyes always held a calculating look, like she was analyzing anything and everything in order to make the best possible move.

It was like a chess game.

Percy, though he hated that dreadful game, nevertheless found himself pulled in just like every other guy. He found he wanted to play her mind-boggling game. He wanted to challenge her and cause her to stumble and miscalculate. He found himself wanting to be the man that changed her life and affected her in a way that no one else had done before. And, unknowingly, he'd accomplished his goal.

Because, unlike every other guy who'd participated in her little game, he hadn't backed down at the first sign of struggle. He'd played and she'd countered for as long as she could until finally she had to admit defeat and acknowledge his check mate.

In Percy's eyes, Annabeth was everything that a girl should be. She was smart and intelligent, wise beyond her years. The daughter of Athena had experienced more in her lifetime than most adults ever dreamed of. She had lost Luke. She'd lost Thalia for years but then got her back, only to lose her again within that same year to the Hunters. She'd had Grover, but with his mission for Pan going into action, she saw less and less of him until he finally disappeared, with only a few occasional visits.

Percy was all she seemed to have left, the one person who stayed with her through thick and thin. The man in question was more than pleased with himself. He felt amazed to be able to call Annabeth, a respected member of Camp, his girlfriend. She was everything he wanted, even though he hadn't known it.

He loved her with all his heart.

Maybe they were too young. (It was practically an invitation for someone like Aphrodite to butt in and screw everything up after they finally found happiness with each other.) However he found himself unable to imagine being with anyone else. With Annabeth, he felt whole.

Everything she did intrigued him: the way she quirked her eyebrow when she was teasing him; the smirk that would adorn her face when she just _knew_ she'd beaten him; her blush whenever he verbally told her his feelings towards her; the way she bit her lip when they were impeccably close, only a few layers of clothing separating them from each other. She was unforgivably lovely. Every action caused butterflies to flap nervously in his stomach, eliciting goose bumps to rise on his skin.

So maybe Percy wasn't a poet (and he sure as hell knew it), but he knew beauty. He saw it every day—walking towards him, smiling at him, laughing with him. He heard its giggles, its sardonic tones, its witty remarks. And he felt its firm embrace across his skin, its clawing of desperation, its gentle caress of love.

It was all he needed to realize that the definition of beauty wasn't tall, skinny, and blonde. No, the true definition of beauty was simply Annabeth.

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**Thanks for reading! Review please!**

**-Akatsuki Child**


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